The Gold Dust Twins

On 17 September, 1939 these two young men walked into
the U.S. Coast Guard Recruiting Station in the Federal Building, Seattle and
enlisted as Apprentice Seamen. Doug Munro came from the small mountain
town of Cle Elum where his father was manager of the Milwaukee Railroad
Electric Sub-Station. Ray came from Seattle. His father was a
long time Pacific Telephone and Telegraph Company employee in the Long Lines
Division and had, back in 1925, been in charge of the telephone office in
Cle Elum.

Since there was no training station in the Coast Guard
in 1939, Ray was put in charge of a group of about 12 enlistees, including
Munro, and placed on a bus to the Coast Guard Air Station at Port Angeles.
Arriving there as raw boots they were put to mowing lawns, cleaning up and
servicing aircraft.

Seven days into this routine and announcement was made
asking for volunteers to fill seven vacancies aboard USCGC Spencer
then enroute on permanent change of station orders from Valdez, Alaska to
Staten Island CG Base, New York. The Spencer was just three
years old and a smart ship. Doug and Ray volunteered and served aboard
Spencer until early 1941 earning the Signalman 3rd Class rating
during this time.

WAR HISTORY

The Coast Guard in 1941 was ordered to man three
attack transports: the Hunter Liggett, American Legion,
and Joseph T. Dickman which had been U.S. Army Transports.
The word came out that signalmen were needed on the Hunter Liggett and Doug
and I, Ray Evans, after many days of pleading convinced CDR Harold S. Berdine, the Executive Officer, USCGC Spencer to let us go.
On arrival aboard Liggett at the Brooklyn Army Base we found we
were actually attached to the staff of Commander Transport Division 7,
Commodore G.B. Ashe. The officers of the staff were Navy except for
CDR Dwight Dexter, Personnel Officer who was Coast Guard. The Navy
apparently felt that the Coast Guard did not have officers trained in
handling vessels in convoy or in multiple ship groups so the Division
Commander was Navy. All other personnel on the vessels, both officers
and men, were Coast Guard.

When I learned that CDR Dexter had received orders to
command the Naval Operating Base on Guadalcanal I volunteered for duty
building and manning a beach signal station and landed on the island on 7
August, 1942 with the Marine invasion force. Landing was relatively
unopposed as the Japanese forces drew back into the hills behind what became
known as Henderson Field, and let the landing occur with little interference
until later when the fighting became fierce.

Munro, on the other hand, made the landing on Tulagi
Island, 20 miles across the channel from Guadalcanal, which was a very
bloody action wiping out 80% of the Marine first wave, and taking several
days of fierce fighting before the island could be declared secured.
When that action was completed in about two weeks he was transferred back to
Guadalcanal and the two 'Gold Dust Twins,' as they became known on the
Spencer, were reunited.

During mid-September the Marines had been
ineffectively trying to drive west across the Matanikau River but with
little or no success. As I understand it now they had directed a force
across the river high up on the mountains and on 23 September launched an
attack by water to land at Point Cruz, charge inland and link up with the
land force and encircle the Japanese. Our part in this came when CDR
Dexter called Munro and I to him and directed us to take charge of a number
of LCVP and LCT vessels to transport a battalion of Marines from the base at Lunga Point to Point Cruz and land them in a small cove on the eastern side
of the Point.

The boats loaded, Munro and Evans were in separate
LCVP's, each with an air cooled Lewis .30 caliber machine gun and
ammunition. The flotilla proceeded to a point about one mile offshore of
Point Cruz and rendezvoused with the destroyer USS Ballard, which
laid down a covering barrage and then gave us the go ahead to land.
The landing was marred by shallow water preventing the landing from
occurring where planned. The Battalion Major was informed that
as soon as they landed he should direct his troops to the left to compensate
for the landing site but as it turned out he was killed instantly by a
Japanese mortar round and did not so direct his troops. They charged
through the narrow fringe of trees and jungle at the beach and emerged into
a field rising steeply up to a ridge. They started up only to find a
Japanese in single man pits with camouflaged lids behind them. They
had charged right up the hill past these defensive positions and were then
placed under a murderous field of fire and were forced into fighting their
way back to the beach losing about twenty five casualties in the process.

Meanwhile the Battalion Major had requested that when
the boats returned to base, one LCVP remained offshore for a short time to
receive immediate wounded. I volunteered to do this while Munro led
the other boats back to base. The coxswain, whom I believe was named
[Samuel] Roberts, from Portland, Oregon and I lay to off the beach waiting.
Due to our inexperience we did not anticipate fire from the beach and
allowed our boat to lay too close in. A sudden burst from a Japanese
machine gun hit the coxswain and I slammed the combined shift and throttle
lever into full ahead and raced the four miles back to the Lunga Point Base.
Roberts was placed on an air-evac[uation] plane to Espiritu Santos, New
Hebrides but I understand he died while enroute.

I should add that the Japanese gunner had punctured
all three hydraulic control lines on the LCVP so that arriving at the base
at full throttle, probably about 20 mph, I could not get the engine out of
gear and ran full throttle up on the gently sloping sand beach.
Scratch one LCVP.

As soon as I arrived back at the base, Munro and I
were told that the Marines were in trouble and had to be evacuated from the
same beach we had landed them on. So with approximately the same
LCVPs and three or four LCTs we headed back to get them off. On
arrival Munro and I elected to stay in an empty LCVP with our two Lewis
machine guns and furnish some sort of covering fire for the Marines on the
beach as they boarded. As the LCVP we were in would be filled we
transferred to a waiting empty boat, until at last, all the Marines had been
loaded, including about twenty five walking wounded, and the last boat, an
LCT and our LCVP turned and headed to sea. As we passed the end of the
point we saw another LCT loaded with Marines stranded on the beach and
unable to back off. Munro directed the LCT with us to go in, pass a
tow line and get them off, which it did. During this procedure, which
took about twenty minutes, there was no gunfire from the Japanese on the
beach nor did we see any movement on the beach. When both LCTs were
headed out to sea we fell in after them and were at full power when I saw a
line of water spouts coming across the water from where the LCT had been
grounded and realized it was machine gun fire. I don't think Munro saw
the line of bullets since he was facing forward and did not at first react
to my yelling over the engine noise. When he did he turned far enough
to receive a round through the neck at the base of the skull. He was
dead on arrival back at the Naval Operating Base.

Admiral William F. Halsey, USN, on recommendation I'm
sure from CDR Dexter, now RADM Dexter (Ret.), recommended Douglas Munro for
the Medal of Honor, the only such medal awarded to a Coast Guardsman to this
day. It was subsequently delivered to his mother, Edith Munro, in an
appropriate ceremony at which I was not present being still in the South
Pacific. Edith Munro afterward joined the SPARs as a reserve officer
and served as such until the war's end. Both she and Doug's father are
now deceased.

ADM Halsey promoted me to Chief Signalman on his
flagship in Noumea, New Caledonia after I was relieved at Guadalcanal.
I subsequently served as Signalman aboard the President Polk making
a supply run to Guadalcanal but the malaria I had been plagued with returned
and I was transferred back to San Francisco on the Polk, a civilian
transport under government contract. Shortly after returning from
leave with my bride, Dorothy, I was awarded the Navy Cross in ceremonies at
the Coast Guard Training Station, Alameda, California.

Doug was a vital, outgoing young man who liked
everybody he met with a few exceptions. He was fun to be around and
we had some great liberty times together. He was a hard worker and we
studied together to become proficient as Coast Guard signalmen. We
didn't want the Navy battleship signalmen to think we couldn't compete
because we could, and did, all through the war. . . [Douglas Munro's Medal
of Honor] was deserved and no was more pleased than I to have a high
endurance cutter, USCGC Munro, named after him. I hope there
is always a 'Munro' in the Coast Guard fleet.